


I need you (even just for tonight)

by coruscates



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Grand Prix Final Banquet, M/M, Mutual Pining, Spoil Yuuri for 100+ days fic, This is the Banquet yall deserve, Time Loop AU, Very Fluffy and Sweet?, banquet fic, drunk yuuri, slight angst, sochi, yuri is so done
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2019-05-22
Packaged: 2019-09-02 23:49:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16797151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coruscates/pseuds/coruscates
Summary: The time loop where they pine, fall in love, exchange rings all in the span of 24 hours





	1. In the first few nights

**Author's Note:**

> BELATED HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE ONE AND ONLY KATSUKI YUURI.  
> Welcome to my Banquet fic. Let me just say...This has been sitting in my drive for who knows how long but whatever here it is.

**Night 1**

Viktor sighed for the nth time tonight.

Everyone bustled about in the hall, nursing flutes of champagne on one hand, the other creating accompanying gestures to whatever gossip they cared to share. They all wore various formal attire, some flashier than the rest (although Viktor did spot someone sporting a hideous tie somewhere in the hall). All in all, the hall was brimming with energy, the perfect atmosphere for a banquet.

The banquet, celebrating the success of the Grand Prix Final and of course, in honor of its participants was definitely something to look forward to especially after the intense competition everyone went through on the ice.

Viktor, however, couldn’t bring himself to muster up enough enthusiasm for this whole event. Expectedly, having won 4, now 5 consecutive Grand Prix Finals Viktor was just _tired._ For years, it had been the same thing during the banquets, being bombarded by questions, clarifications and praises from faces he tries to remember, offers being served to him on a silver platter and some squeezed in small talk with Chris and some of the other skaters.

It was supposed to be a _celebration_ , vibrant and joyous down to every detail. Viktor, however, was tired of it. Viktor may uphold his image of class (with matching classy Armani suit) everywhere he goes but several years of the same old things _over and over again_ only served to drain Viktor's energy to socialize even more each passing year.

Now, Viktor, to his dismay, was trapped in a conversation with one of his newer sponsors, who also happened to be sponsoring another skater from the senior women's division. Admittedly, Viktor was already spacing in and out of the conversation, trying his best to keep up with courtesy, injecting a reply every now and then to the very enthusiastic man in front of him. He took a quick sip after nodding once again to the man's suggestion, the man already dragging his other skater to meet with him formally.

"We would be so lucky to have you and Aleksha as the face of our brand." The man's grin was wide enough to split his face. A hand was already reaching out to shake Viktor's.

"It would be nice working with you, Mr. Nikiforov." The skater's- Aleksis?- voice pitched high in enthusiasm. Viktor at one point hoped that maybe he can get his enthusiasm back too.

‘Maybe talking and drinking with Chris would help.’

The young woman was a fan of his, shyly fluttering her eyelashes at him to catch more of his attention. Viktor tried as much as possible to keep up with socializing with them but he can feel himself tire with everything each passing minute.

"Ah, just give me some time to think about it, and I'll have someone look over it as well." Viktor said, his words rehearsed and precise, almost the exact same words he had replied to others in the room.

"Well, Mr. Nikiforov, just so you know, our brand is welcome to have you with us anytime. Anything for the Living legend himself." The praise fell flat in Viktor's ears. No amount of praise could get him out of his slump.

After all, what is an artist without inspiration?

His thoughts started to drift over his skate, as much as he wanted to convey the emotion his skate demanded, his performance had failed to surprise his audience, and himself. (Though, surprising himself was already farfetched. There was no way that he would suddenly have his ‘life’ back when he skated again.). The whole performance was several steps below what it could be when he was at his peak.

His skates no longer had their spark. Skating no longer gave him a rush. Nor does anything else apparently. Too many things have become repetitive in his life. It was sad to think that the very thing that kept him going had gone stale as well.

You could even say he was on some sort of decline after all these years regardless of what he had achieved.

The sponsor and the skater continued the (very much one-sided) conversation. Viktor tried his best not to drone out their voices in the midst of mulling over his thoughts. It took some energy from Viktor to stop himself from tuning out whatever the man has been harping on.

Luckily for Viktor, a tug on his arm pulled him away from the two, a familiar platinum blond leading him away from them.

"Okay, that's enough old man." He came face to face (well to be honest, Viktor had to look down to face him) with the Junior Grand Prix Final winner, his informal protégé, Yuri Plisetsky. His ever present scowl was plastered on his face as he continued to tug on Viktor’s arm, a gesture him to follow.

"Yuri, what is it?”

"Yakov made me get you, says he wants to introduce you to someone." The young blond huffed as he shoves his hands inside his pockets.

"Alright, alright." Viktor nodded at his two acquaintances as a goodbye as he trailed behind Russia's Ice Tiger.

"Hurry the fuck up. I want to taste whatever they're bringing out now." Viktor followed Yuri's line of sight, spotting a waiter serving most likely champagne and wine.

"Yuri, that's alcohol."

"It wasn't soda? Well shit." In Yuri's disappointment, he hadn't noticed that he was about to bump into someone, a tall tanned man, long brunette hair tied into a ponytail. Yuri bounced back from the impact, stumbling slightly on his feet. He immediately lashed out _some_ of his colorful vocabulary, sputtering several insults in just one line until he realized who exactly he had bumped into. He blushed furiously at his mistake.

"Yuri Plisetsky!" Yakov's voice bellowed from behind them. His arms were crossed across his chest.

"Haha, it's alright Yakov. No harm done." The man's Italian accent lilted as he spoke, he had his arm around his skater. His student had his head hung low, shoulders slumped as he remained indifferent. Japan's Katsuki Yuuri had a blank look on his face, a look of self-admonishment and regret.

Viktor could feel sadness emanating from his blank stare. In fact, Yuuri didn’t even bother to react when Yuri had almost toppled him and his coach. That blankness and dreariness however, somehow made Viktor feel the intense need to reach _out_ in sympathy, feeling that same blankness in him swell up in recognition.

"I-I'm sorry, Coach Cialdini." Yuri muttered lowly before he proceeded to move to Yakov's side. Yakov's scolding look was trained on him as he moved.

“Nothing to it, Yuri. Congratulations to both of you by the way. Excellent skating.” Celestino shaked hands with the two Russian skaters, a determined look was gleaming in his eyes. “But watch out next year Yuuri and I will—“

“Celestino-sensei, I’ll just go get something to drink.” Katsuki reached up and removed his coach’s arm over his shoulder, sullenly yet quickly walking away from them right after.

“Yuuri…?” Celestino called out to no avail, watching his student stride over to the champagne served in rows of glasses on the table.

“Tch, that pig.” Yuri looked on with disdain, boredom mingling in his gaze.

While Celestino was surprised at his student’s actions and Yuri‘s general everyday annoyance escalated, Viktor felt as if he was being _pulled_.

It felt strangely reassuring, knowing that other than him someone also feels not up to anything tonight at the banquet.

This vague reassurance served to only magnify whatever gut feeling he’s been having since they had left the rink earlier. Ever since he last saw Yuuri at their so-called battleground. The blank look Yuuri wore when he walked away was exactly the same as what he was wearing tonight at the banquet, if not even worse.

Did Viktor say or do anything wrong for him to walk away earlier?

There was an undeniable air of ‘I don’t want to talk right now’ around the man. His glasses shielding whatever emotions that threatened to leak over Yuuri’s eyes. Viktor couldn’t help but allow his gaze to go over the skater in curiosity.

Considering that his short program was phenomenal, placing him at 3rd in the standings and his free program was below what obviously could’ve been with the jumps being extremely hit or miss whilst the step sequence remained superb, surely something had happened to him _earlier_ , causing him to avoid all unnecessary contact with anyone who was not his coach.

(Contrary to what people may think, Viktor was very much aware of _some_ of his competitors, taking note of their strengths and watching their programs in focus. He’s just not good with _names_ , that’s it. Viktor liked to think that’s it.)

Whatever was going on with Katsuki Yuuri was probably downright devastating if it had managed to damage his skating…or most likely even more.

Maybe Viktor himself can try to find out more about this bespectacled mystery.

Boy, did Viktor find out _more._

 _Way_ more than what he expected.

After speaking with Yakov, more and more people vied for his time and attention, overeager to say anything in any form just to give themselves a pat on the back.

For what was only minutes, it felt like he’d been conversing with them for almost hours now.

It didn’t help that he felt a distinctive tug in his gut, urging him to turn around and search for a certain gloomy skater.

It was undeniable that the _pull_ he felt towards Yuuri grew stronger as time passed by, the force itself almost becoming unbearable.

Viktor’s impatience steadily built up but he kept himself composed. He can’t exactly take it against this sponsors, fans and fellow skaters especially if they only had time to meet with him tonight and especially since these people support him. He has to do his best to return their efforts twofold. However, his eyes continued to shift back on forth from the woman speaking to him and around the room, aquamarine eyes searching for inky black hair, blocky glasses and an ugly tie in combo, unable to control himself from following his gut.

“Yes, yes Dolores. That is nice of you.”

“Oh, Viktor—“

**_“WOOOOOOHOOOOOOOOOOO!!! YEAAAAH~”_ **

Heads turned around at the sound of the shout.

There, right at the center of banquet, stood a very, _very_ familiar man with a half drunk bottle of champagne, swaying side to side on his feet, shirt unbuttoned, horrible necktie stuffed messily into his coat pocket.

Katsuki Yuuri, in all his drunken glory, was dancing, twirling in his place as he started to sing lowly in garbled Japanese.

“Gross.” Yuri muttered behind him.

Viktor Nikiforov was in shock or, to be more specific, he was feeling an intense mixture of surprise, concern, intrigue and unexpected _excitement_.

A Katsuki Yuuri without inhibitions was someone whose presence demanded every bit of anyone’s attention.

As Yuuri continued on with his elaborate performance, the crowd looked at him with collective concern and curiosity, all wondering what pushed this skater to get drunk on a night solely meant to impress and where exactly his coach was in this whole alcohol-driven fiasco.

(Apparently, he was knocked-out cold, several glasses and bottles of alcohol sitting by his head on their table.)

It was amusing to think that Katsuki Yuuri himself was capable of just _letting go_.

As soon as Yuuri stopped singing, he bowed to the crowd, almost stumbling to the ground as he overdipped his body downward. The crowd, deciding he was not exactly a threat to the banquet, simply turned around and continued on with their lives as if nothing had happened.

They probably thought that he was immensely distraught by the results and decided to give him leeway for his drunken stupor. Everyone was aware of Katsuki Yuuri’s notorious glass heart and decided to shrug his antics off just for this night.

Viktor watched as Yuuri smiled to himself, and proceeded to take another swig of alcohol. While Yuuri was downing a considerable amount, Viktor saw how his eyes moved about, as if searching for something, _someone_ in the banquet hall, most likely looking for his inebriated coach (at least that’s Viktor thought).

Viktor continued to watch him as if in a trance, watching Yuuri contemplate whatever he would do next. Suddenly, brown eyes locked into his, Yuuri’s gaze stopping him from making any sort of movement. With determined steps and a pout ever present on his flushed face, Yuuri walked towards Viktor, eyes steadily locked onto his target.

Viktor stood with his planted to the ground as Yuuri stood before him, eyes steeled and arms crossed over his chest.

“Heeeeey Viktoru, how could you do that?” Yuuri slurred over his words but the bite still remained in them.

“What? I—“ Yuuri cut Viktor off before he could continue.

“I’m your faaaan. And I skated yesterday. How could you? And even a skate as horrible as that?”

‘Is he referring to my skate or?’

Suddenly, Viktor was pulled down by the tie, putting him at eye level with a pouting Yuuri, pretty brown eyes staring straight back into his.

“Hey, just because you’re the champion doesn’t mean you can just be like that!”

“B-be like what?”

“Forget me.” Yuuri’s voice cracked as a flash of sadness flickered over his features.

‘Ah. No wonder he walked away earlier.’ Viktor immediately felt a stab of guilt against his gut. ‘He probably thought I thought he was my fan.’

“Yuuri, I—“

“No, no. I know you don’t- didn’t.“ Yuuri waved his hands, dismissing whatever words Viktor felt he should say. “But don’t worry about it~ I know exactly what you should do.”

“I’m sorry. What?”

“Take pictures of me so you won’t forget.”

And that was exactly the moment where the best night of Viktor’s life started.

* * *

After taking several pictures of Yuuri in different poses whilst cradling his bottle of champagne in his hand, Yuuri stopped Viktor, gesturing him to tuck his phone back in his pocket.

“Viktoooor, I think I have a better idea!” Yuuri’s eyes sparkled with glee. “Let’s have someone take pictures of us!”

“Yuuri, why don’t we sit down for a while so—“

“Wait, I know we can find someone!” Yuuri squinted over the guests, eyes searching for his new prey. “A-HA!”

Before Viktor could grab Yuuri and persuade him to drink some water to sober him up (even just a little), Yuuri dashed towards a certain scowling blond, placing his hand over the young teen’s shoulder as soon as he came close.

“What the—Pig? What’s the matter with you!? Get your hand off me!” Yuri turned around, eyebrows knotted in annoyance.

“Can you take pictures of me and Viktor?” Yuuri asked simply, smiling as he spoke.

“What!? No! Why would I even do that for you and the old man?”

“B-because...”

“Ugh, whatever. No matter what you say, I sure as hell won’t. Fuck off, and go be drunk somewhere else.”

“Well then!” Yuuri, apparently, wasn’t the type to take no for an answer.“I challenge you to a dance off!”

“The fuck!?”

“And if I win, you’ll take them for me.”

“Tch, as if. Go away and leave me alone already.” Yuri stubbornly turned his back away from Yuuri.

“Hm, you’re just scared I’ll beat you.”

“I skate _better_ than you and I dance _better_ than you. How the hell am I afraid of someone who sobs in toilets.”

“You’re just saying that because you’re scared.”

“What the hell would I even be scared of? You? Don’t make me laugh, pig.” Yuri turned back around, clenching his fists as he glared at Yuuri.

“You’re scared that you’ll be outdanced by someone who sobs in toilets!”

“As if!”

“Well, if you’re so sure. Prove it.”

“Arrgh! Fine. Bring it, pig!”

* * *

“How the hell can he do that while drunk!?”

“ _AMAZING_.”

Viktor clapped his hands together as he cheered for Yuuri as he bowed down in front of the crowd gathered around their dance off which—to Yuri’s dismay—Yuuri flawlessly won, not even pulled down by the alcohol in his system.

Yuri gritted his teeth in irritation, his face fuming with rage.

Katsuki Yuuri may be drunk right now but the way he moved made him no less than beautiful, enchanting and downright inspiring. Yuuri may have been gloomy for the past 24 hours but it never took away the spark which Viktor had taken notice of whenever he skated. Be it with a broken heart, nervousness or even excitement, Yuuri remained to be brilliant in his art.

That was something that Viktor could only hope to achieve, a spark which he hopes to regain.

“Yuuri has always been quite the dancer.” A familiar voice broke Viktor out of his thoughts.

“Ah, Chris,” Viktor greeted his good friend. “I guess even you couldn’t resist watching Yuuri dance. The way he moves…it’s just hypnotic.”

“I see you’re liking what you see.” Chris winked at Viktor, placing his arm around his long time friend. “Let me tell you that anyone who has ever watched Katsuki Yuuri dance could call themselves lucky. It’s rare to see a man with the _full package_ move the way he does.”

“There’s no doubt about that, Chris.” Viktor’s gaze rested on Yuuri who was happily bowing and thanking those who watched him, even giving high fives to other skaters. He looked on Yuuri moved to approach Yuri, disheveled and fuming with a mixture of unbridled rage and disbelief.

“Now our deal?” Yuuri bounced towards the teen, happy grin plastered on his face.

“Whatever. This was only one time, pig.” Yuri begrudgingly pulled out his phone out of his pocket, readying it to take pictures. “Now, move your ass to Viktor and let’s just get on with it.”

Before Viktor knew it, Yuuri reached out to him, effectively pulling him out of Chris’ grasp, placing one hand on Viktor’s hip and the other taking Viktor’s hand into his. Viktor could only react with surprise as he allowed himself to be positioned.

Viktor looked back at Yuuri whose warm eyes could melt his very soul. Viktor’s heart beat fast as he gazed back. It had been quite a while since he felt like this, light, giddy and excited all at the same time.

“Let’s dance!” Yuuri said with a grin, his words slurred together in his enthusiasm. “Yuri can take our pictures while we do.”

Viktor was speechless. How was it even possible for a human being to be as charming and attractive as Katsuki Yuuri? Someone whose beauty is often overlooked, purposefully hidden before it bursts it out in color right before your eyes, a thousand fireworks painting him in astounding color and grace.

Viktor was convinced that Yuuri’s inherent shyness had served to bar people from truly appreciating his existence.

“Viktor, please?” Yuuri took both of Viktor’s hands into his, Viktor felt his cheeks heat up in response. “I promise it’ll be fun. How about I start first then when you’re ready, jump right in!”

Viktor couldn’t help but smile at Yuuri’s enthusiasm, Yuuri’s lightness pulled him into an incredibly tempting mix of energy. Viktor willingly allowed himself to be pulled in.

With a matching grin, Viktor replied.

“Alright.”

* * *

Viktor had never felt so alive. This whole night was a blur of energy and life. Viktor could feel himself becoming addicted to the rush of it, to the rush that comes with Katsuki Yuuri’s existence.

After their dance together, Viktor had gone to get a drink or two to ease his thirst (in more ways than one) only to return to Chris challenging Yuuri to another dance off…on a pole.

Needless to say, that Viktor had become incredibly blessed that night. His eyes were blessed by the sight of Yuuri’s carefully sculpted body along with what seems to be his bubbly ass, an ass that could rival Chris’ across social media, wrapped seductively around Chris’ portable metal pole, twirling himself into various positions which, if Viktor were to be honest, were in varying degrees of enticing.

(Those lean, defined muscles and curved thighs were heavenly.)

As the night went on, the more Yuuri danced, the more Viktor was entranced. The more he felt Yuuri’s energy, the more he felt dormant emotions within him come alive one again.

Viktor prayed that Yuuri would not forget this night (hopefully the alcohol won’t make him forget everything) because surely Viktor would never allow himself to.

As Yuuri wrapped his arms around Viktor, Viktor felt something deep inside ignite and combust right at the moment Yuuri exclaimed:

“Be my coach, Viktor!”

It had been such a long time since Viktor’s heart last leapt out of his chest.

* * *

**Night 2**

Viktor woke up the same way he usually does after a competition, tired muscles cracking as he sat up, sunlight shyly and softly peeking through the windows, ears attuned to the comforting silence of his room. This morning, however, was accompanied by a rarity, a sleeping Makkachin right at Viktor’s feet. Viktor was thankful that the GPF was set domestically. It was only so often that he could actually bring along Makkachin to his competitions. Makkachin always seemed sullen each time Viktor had to leave for his competition. Being left behind with Viktor’s accommodating and friendly neighbors who always seemed to spoil Makka with treats was not enough of a substitute from actually spending time together instead of hundreds of miles away from each other.

It was a simple treat for him and his poodle, a way to spoil himself and his furry friend.

All in all, it was a nice morning following what could only be the best night of his life.

Viktor sighed contently as he allowed himself to fall back on the mattress, half expecting Yakov to knock at his door and threaten to drag him out of bed and have him prepare for his afternoon flight. But no, it was too early, and Makkachin in particular enjoyed cuddling up against his owner’s chest.

And honestly, Viktor felt like he could give himself more time to reminisce over last night’s events.

“Katsuki Yuuri…” Viktor spoke softly, as if delicately cradling the name within the way he spoke, pronouncing it with much care and fondness wrapped around its syllables.

Viktor smiled to himself as he remember the way he was dipped during their dance, some kind of odd mixture of a flamenco and tango.

He hasn’t had that much fun in a long time. He expected to go to the banquet, chat repeatedly with sponsors, ISU officials and some other skaters not watch very engaging dance off between what must be one of the most charming people he’s met and the resident walking ball of teenage hormones, dancing with said charming person as if they were the only two people at the banquet and of course, watching _the_ Katsuki Yuuri own Chris at his own game.

It was _amazing_.

But Viktor has to admit, last night did not leave him satisfied, not one bit. Instead, he felt a deep need to have more of Yuuri in his life. Get to know what was underneath those impeccable spins and step sequences, find out what was hiding beneath his apparent social aversion and blank gaze, discover the real Yuuri hiding underneath layers upon layers of emotion and art.

Needless to say, Viktor had already made a move on his feelings.

Viktor found himself feeling giddy, remembering writing a small note with his number on it and leaving it at Yuuri’s bedside table.

(After much persuasion on Viktor’s part, Yuuri agreed to be escorted back to his hotel room also accompanied by his much-sobered up coach.

“He looks up to you.”

“Yeah…He told me earlier.”

It felt like he was a teenager asking permission from his boyfriend’s dad to go out on a date.

 _Especially_ with the way Celestino scrutinized him, thick eyebrows raising critically as Viktor offered to help haul drunk Yuuri up to his room.)

A faint blush painted his cheeks as he smiled to himself as he laid in bed.

He absolutely can’t wait until Yuuri wakes up.

Several raps on his door pulled Viktor out of his daydreams.

“Vitya, open up!” Yakov’s voice bellowed from outside the door.

Viktor promptly scrambled to his feet, giving a short pat on Makkachin’s head before opening up the door for his coach.

“Ah, Yakov. It’s quite a good morning, don’t you think?” Viktor chirped happily at his coach who only looked at him unsurprised. “Our flight is still in the afternoon, right?”

“Hm, no wonder you’ve been taking so long. I suggest you hurry up and get ready. Everyone has been waiting for you at the rink. You and Katsuki to be exact.” Yakov gruffly said, stern eyes judging him relentlessly.

“The rink?” What could everyone be doing at the rink today? Was there some event he wasn’t informed of?

“Don’t play stupid with me, Vitya. I’m not allowing you to pull out of this gala even if you’re doing it as a statement.” Yakov’s firm words doused cold water over Viktor in one swoop. “Especially considering you’re the Champion and at the peak of your career.”

“W-wasn’t the gala yesterday?”

“Vitya, stop stalling and get to the rink.” Yakov turned around, footsteps heading toward the elevator. “I expect you to be there in 10 minutes.”

All Viktor could do was stand at his door, shirtless and dumbfounded.

* * *

Yuuri woke up from the weirdest dream he’s had in a long while.

At least that’s what Yuuri thinks it is.

Though he could only remember it in flashes, it was definitely downright scandalous, embarrassing and at one point heartbreaking.

He could remember Celestino dragging him to the banquet, formally ‘meeting’ Victor and the rest were bits and pieces of dancing, some of which involved him stripping whilst wrapped around a pole.

Yuuri sat up as soon as the scene flashed in his mind, shaking his head as if trying to erase the image from his mind.

Yuuri had never been so thankful that all of it was just a dream.

Yuuri would usually attribute the weirdness of it to some weird event the night before but all he could remember was a few drinks with some small talk here and there and Celestino asking him to rest up.

Definitely not something out of the ordinary.

He reached towards the bedside table for his glasses, promptly putting them on as he unlocked his phone.

Yuuri looked twice at his phone, looking at the numbers on the screen.

“Huh…”

Yuuri blinked twice, rubbing his eyes right after.

“It’s still December 9…?”

Yuuri could have sworn that the gala was already over and done with but it seemed like everything about ‘yesterday’ was just a dream.

Taking note of the time on his phone, Yuuri shuffled out of bed as he heaved out a tired sigh.

So much for already skating at the gala in his dream.

In all honesty, Yuuri would have wanted to skip out on the gala entirely.

‘It just doesn’t feel the same knowing that…’ Yuuri’s thoughts drifted over his beloved pet, tears steadily gathering in his eyes as he recalled the many times Vicchan would yip and flop over by his head whenever he teared up and curled himself under the blankets, how he would lick his face clean of tears and patiently lie down with him as he cried, how he snuggles himself against Yuuri’s stomach whenever they laid down on the floor on a hot summer’s day, how he would jump up to Yuuri whenever he arrived home before Yuuri could even say ‘ _Tadaima_ ’.

Vicchan was his best friend, his soft rock whenever he couldn’t voice out his fears. One of the many things which kept Yuuri going.

The tears steadily fell from Yuuri’s face, his hands shook as he wiped them away.

‘It’s not the same…It will never be. I’ll never have the chance to show my love for you like you did for me, Vicchan. I’m so sorry.’ Yuuri thought bitterly, angry at himself, despairing over _everything_.

He had let his family down.

He let his hometown down.

He let Japan down.

He let _Vicchan_ down.

Yuuri was one of the most horrible skaters in the world.

He was also one of the most horrible pet owners as well.

Both titles sent a lasting blow on Yuuri’s mind and heart.

How did he even think he could do _this_?

He was so incredibly stupid to do so in the first place, his dreams far too big and too faraway for him to reach.

After the disaster which he himself had orchestrated, Yuuri was at a loss.

What can he do now that he had just proven to himself that he just wasn’t _enough_?

Wiping his eyes for one last time, Yuuri gazed sullenly at his hands. As much as he wants to run away from this, he can’t afford to mess up once again.

‘Might as well end my career with a decent skate…’ Yuuri thought to himself. ‘…Maybe.’

He shuffled out of his bed, and headed to the bathroom to freshen up before setting out to get ready for the day’s gala.


	2. Nights unexpected

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor realizes many things but he never expected to realize the impossible.
> 
> Yuuri could say the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! So I'm somewhat back? But I still have finals to deal with before I can fully come back to writing this fic. I'm not going to abandon this fic. It's my baby and I really, really enjoy writing it. I hope you all enjoy reading this as well!
> 
> Much thanks to Baph who helped me read through this chap. Baph, you're such a sweetheart. You've helped me a lot for this chap so thank you <3

**Night 3**

Two eerily similar ‘dreams’ in a row, far too real to just be dreams at that, can’t be merely coincidence.

This was the exact thought running through Viktor’s head as he stood idly at the center of the banquet hall, stirring his glass of champagne as he tried to make sense of what was happening.

There was a total of three things which Viktor had noticed: one, it seemed that he’s had two consecutive gala-banquet dreams, two, his dreams were almost exactly the same, and three, Katsuki Yuuri progressively became less and less tipsy in his dreams.

Needless to say, Viktor has become suspicious.

Nevertheless, he went on with his day, trying to discard the nagging thought at the back of his head, convincing himself that he could’ve been lucidly dreaming all this time.

His gut, however, continued to twist and turn every passing second of the banquet.

And the undeniable urge to offer a certain skater some champagne steadily crept through his veins each time he passed him by.

**Night 4**

The first time Viktor felt an intense chill sharply shoot down his spine was when he was a child, watching one of the greatest figure skaters in the world land a quadruple salchow right before his eyes.

From that moment on, Viktor always vowed to give his audience that very same chill, persevering through every competition until the world could no longer separate the word ‘surprise’ from ‘Viktor Nikiforov.’

For years, Viktor became used to being the one to surprise others.

Finding himself in this current situation was not something he had ever foreseen.

Viktor felt an even more intense chill sharply shoot down his back the moment he woke up to the exact same series of knocks at his door, the same “Vitya, open up!” uttered by his frustrated coach, and the same date plastered on his phone screen.

Throughout the day, he replayed every single thing that had happened in his ‘dreams’ prior.

He went to the same gala practice.

Skated the same skate.

Met with the same sponsors at the banquet.

Needless to say, Viktor was thoroughly convinced something was up.

And, he was just a hair’s breadth away from absolutely losing it.

This air of extreme familiarity served only to irk and worsen the swirling feeling within Viktor’s gut.

Down to what time he woke up, Yakov knocking at his door, the words spoken to him, the gala, and more.

Everything was exactly the same.

That is except for one person.

Viktor’s gaze shifted to the sullen figure standing at the corner of the banquet hall, watching as the man stared into the champagne he cradled in his hand, watching the bubbles float and disappear.

For what it’s worth, Viktor had already known that the drunken angel from the other night was a stark contrast to the usually reserved man he has been graced with ever since they had set foot on the same ice. The drunken angel was just a one night show, this shy man however is the main stay of the entire production.

Viktor knew Katsuki Yuuri was not going to be as equally open as his inebriated self would be.

Having events repeated several times in a row only served to reinforce the flow of events in Viktor’s head, from minute details to glaring inconsistencies. Viktor would be stupid not to take notice of them.

In every ‘dream’ he’s had, Yuuri always managed end up doing something different each time, surprising Viktor whenever he thought he had predicted the events correctly.

‘Yuuri didn’t drink yesterday night, and he only got tipsy the other night as well…’ Viktor thought idly as he swirled the drink in his hand. ‘This…This has to mean something’

Viktor felt that undeniable pull once again, and before he knew it he was standing right in front of the sullen man, shocked brown eyes gazing into his.

“Hi.”

“H-hi.”

“I’m—“

“Viktor Nikiforov! Uhm, no-no I meant I am Viktor Nikiforov. Wait no. You’re Viktor Nikiforov. I-I’m Katsuki Yuuri. SorryIshouldprobablystoptalking”

Viktor couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. He watched as a pretty red tint spread evenly across Yuuri’s cheeks.

‘How can one person be so adorable?’

“Nice to finally meet you, Yuuri.”

* * *

The moment Yuuri saw those sea blue eyes, he almost wanted to run away and hide.

Yuuri was so lost in thought that he hardly noticed him approaching, almost dropping his glass of champagne.

Viktor let out a small laugh.

Yuuri felt his cheeks heat up even more.

‘How can one person be so beautiful?’

“Nice to finally meet you, Yuuri.” His voice was even smoother in person. 

‘I have to get a hold of myself. _I have to get a hold of myself_ . Viktor Nikiforov is talking to me. _Viktor Nikiforov is talking to me._ ’ Yuuri was frazzled, his thoughts running for miles a second as he tried to compose himself. His feet shifted uneasily, confused on whether to stay in place or take Yuuri and run away. His tongue was tied, his mouth trying to form words with no avail. ‘Now’s not the time to be awkward, Yuuri.’

“Is everything okay, Yuuri?” Clear blue eyes looked at him in worry. Viktor had somehow gotten closer without Yuuri noticing.

To be fair, Yuuri was still in the process of accepting that _all_ of this is really happening.

Yuuri immediately jerked himself away as if he was burnt.

“E-everything’s fine!” Yuuri immediately replied. “I just…It’s just really nice to meet you too, Viktor.”

“Likewise.” Yuuri almost felt himself melt at Viktor’s easy smile. Yuuri had always been so envious of how others managed to talk to Viktor without tripping on their own words. Even Viktor himself had quite the talent in entertaining the numerous strangers who dared to approach him. For Yuuri, he had always felt that Viktor was somewhere unreachable, standing tall and way beyond reach, so far away that Yuuri couldn’t have possibly imagined talking to him right after his skating disaster.

It was the first time that Viktor extended himself to him for whatever vague reason he had, be it passing fancy or curiosity.

It was funny how the universe had its way of giving Yuuri what he wanted at the most unfortunate times.

At least that’s how Yuuri saw it.

A moment of silence passed between them. Yuuri fidgeted as he tried to gather his thoughts in order to actually initiate a decent conversation with his idol while Viktor looked around the banquet hall with a pensive look on his face.

Yuuri continued to twirl his glass of champagne as he tried to piece together a coherent sentence, his lips twisting as he struggled to let out his words in an eloquent manner. He had so many things to say, and at the same time almost nothing. How could he even begin to tell Viktor how much he looked up to him?

“I-it was amazing.” Yuuri finally allowed a few words out, eyes shyly looking up to look into Viktor’s own.

“I’m sorry?” Viktor looked a bit confused, if not distracted.

Yuuri felt a tinge of pain from Viktor’s expression. Was Viktor always this…aloof? Yuuri reeled himself in before any more anxious thoughts seeped into his mind. He was determined to do this, and so he pushed on.

“Your free skate, I mean. It was…breathtaking.” Yuuri felt a small amount of courage start to build up inside him. He’s not sure whether it was the alcohol working or because of something else. Either way, he’s thankful for it. He wants to let Viktor know _._ He has to let Viktor _know_.

“Ah, I see.” Viktor plastered on his usual smile, the type Yuuri often saw when he was in front of the media. “It took me longer than usual to prepare the choreography for it but I just couldn’t let go of that song. It had a story that I wanted to skate for everyone.”

Somehow, Yuuri felt as if he’d heard Viktor’s words before. Was it from an interview he had earlier?

‘Ugh, Viktor probably got told that so many times. Why would it matter coming from me?’ Yuuri mulled over. 

Yuuri continued to pick his words carefully.

“…I-I always looked up to you ever since I was a kid.” Yuuri smiled as he recalled the moment he first saw Viktor skate. He looked ethereal, as if he was a god made for the sole purpose of dancing on the ice. Yuuri wanted to be the same. “Your free program…it made me want to skate my best even though I’m...”

Yuuri felt a strong hand place itself on his shoulder.

“I think you’re selling yourself a bit short, Yuuri. In fact, your step sequences and spins are quite impressive.” A soft smile graced Viktor’s features as he spoke. “Of course, your program and your skating need more polishing but that doesn’t mean you have not earned your place here in the GPF.”

“…Right.” While his words stung, Viktor made sense but that still wasn’t enough to deter that feeling of failure swirling inside Yuuri’s chest.

* * *

Viktor was at a loss.

He wasn’t sure on how to deal with a Yuuri who seemed to stew on his shortcomings, a Yuuri who was on the verge of breaking. He didn’t know which were the right words to say and which were the right things to do to comfort the man. All he could do was grasp at straws and hope that he could at least make Yuuri feel the slightest bit better.

But alas, it seemed that he couldn’t do him any better.

Viktor, over the past few ‘nights’, had grown even fonder of Katsuki Yuuri. While the first night where they danced made his heart grow several times bigger, the following nights only served to cement Viktor’s interest in Yuuri like a moth to flame.

‘Be my coach’ being the very call that started his downfall.

He was sure he wanted to know Yuuri more.

But Yuuri wasn’t like any of the others who seemed to catch on to the state of things quickly.

Yuuri was one who was careful and observant, ever so cautious, and at times, outright impulsive if his tendencies with alcohol are any indication.

He was a walking contradiction who managed to entrance Viktor in the span of an hour.

While his heart yearned to woo Yuuri, first things first, he had to deal with this strange predicament he’s found himself in.

“Hey Yuuri, have you been having ‘weird’ dreams lately?” Viktor carefully asked, unsure of even how to ask about being in a time loop of all things. “Like have your dreams been repeating themselves for quite some time?”

“Weird dreams? What do you mean?” Yuuri stared up at him curiously, head tilting to the side.

Viktor felt his heart ache at just how soft Yuuri looked.

* * *

Yuuri recalled the way his ‘dreams’ seemed to be a bad imitation of Inception, the way he woke up each time wondering why it seemed that he had replayed the same scenario over and over again, and the way that odd sense of déjà vu washed over him throughout the banquet.

“I guess...” Yuuri spoke unsurely. Surely, it was just the alcohol combined with the fatigue of competing on the ice? But Viktor seemed to be onto something...

Or it could just simply be that they’re both tired with alcohol coursing through their veins.

“Hm, what did you dream of, Yuuri?” Viktor asked. He raised his brow at Yuuri’s words, seemingly interested in what else Yuuri had to say. Viktor had already been acting somewhat odd. From randomly approaching him for no reason to asking him if his dreams are repetitive. Yuuri had never dreamed of Viktor becoming interested in him. It was an odd situation.

To Yuuri though, it was a miracle he managed to hold onto this conversation for as long as he did, odd as it is.

“It’s nothing weird. Just the day of the banquet, over and over again.” It was a dream that Yuuri could only remember bits and pieces of. What he did remember was drinking multiple glasses of champagne. The rest was all muddled, mixed with bits of random dancing and fleeting touches.

It was nothing out of the ordinary.

Not like Yuuri was the type to remember his dreams vividly anyway.

“Really?” Viktor leaned closer to Yuuri, a wide heart-shaped smile plastered on his face. “I dreamt the same thing!”

“…R-Really?” Yuuri thought that Viktor probably was just excited for the banquet and unlike Yuuri who dreaded even going to it (to which Celestino convinced him to let himself have some fun for his hard work.) “That’s…neat.”

“It was basically this whole day, over and over again. A dream within a dream, so they say.”

“Yeah.” Yuuri had to admit, it was rare that people would dream the same thing, much less the same exact day. But Viktor and Yuuri’s situations were quite different. It would be safe to say that despite dreaming of the same day, they probably still dreamt quite differently.

Dreams were very personal, after all.

“So what was your dream like?” Viktor’s tone was chipper, as if excited.

“Um…I’m not really that good at remembering it all. Like during the gala, I remember practicing like usual but as for the banquet I only remember bits and pieces? All I remember is drinking several glasses of champagne, Yuri Plisetsky, and some ballroom dancing…”

“With who?” Viktor’s eyes seemed to sparkle.

“I-I can’t remember.” It bothered Yuuri that he can’t remember. However, his body felt an undeniable tug toward Viktor.

It felt as if his body wanted to remember him.

“Oh…” Yuuri noticed the way Viktor’s shoulders slightly drooped at his answer. “But you do remember Yuri, right?”

“Yeah, he was...” Yuuri hesitated to share his run-in with him in the men’s bathroom. “Well, he was being his usual self? At most, I remember Celestino bumping into him.”

Viktor let out a gasp.

Yuuri could only look at him in confusion.

Viktor stepped closer to Yuuri, his hands placing themselves on Yuuri’s shoulders. Yuuri felt himself tense at the contact, bracing himself for what’s to come.

“Yuuri, I know this may sound crazy,”

Yuuri gulped.

He didn’t know what to expect.

“Do you think we’re in a time loop?”

* * *

Maybe Viktor had jumped the question too soon.

However, Viktor couldn’t help but think this was the most logical explanation.

His gut told him that these ‘dreams’ weren’t simply dreams but were reality. Couple that with the slight pain he felt in each ‘dream’ whenever he overexerted his left knee. Surely, feeling pain in these ‘dreams’ were a sign that something is off. After all, repeatedly experiencing that familiar pain he felt in everyday life probably meant that his body has been put through the motions of repeated action.

Surely not something Viktor would feel while sleeping.

(Especially since Viktor only slept in the comfiest position to rest his body, _especially_ his knee.)

Viktor was around 80% sure of it now.

He was in a time loop with Katsuki Yuuri.

Of course, the 20% is left for the possibility that he just _might_ have gone insane.

Viktor waited a few moments before Yuuri let out a loud awkward laugh at Viktor’s words.

Murmurs immediately sounded after Yuuri’s laughter was heard. Immediately, Yuuri risked a look around to see the extent of the people’s reactions. His body fidgeted as numerous eyes stared at him as he sweated profusely.

Viktor knew at that moment that Yuuri didn’t want any of that attention on him. Before Viktor could do anything to alleviate the damage, Yuuri stepped out of his hold, avoiding his gaze, or anyone’s gaze for that matter, as he composed himself.

“I-I think you should probably rest, Viktor. It’s probably just the fatigue messing with you.” Yuuri clutched the ends of his blazer, as he smiled nervously. “Time loops…they’re impossible aren’t they? It’s just something from a movie. It just can’t be real, right?”

“…Right.” Viktor said dumbly. He felt his chance at getting to the bottom of this situation slip away the moment Yuuri escaped from his grasp.

Viktor knew what he was thinking was real.

This whole banquet was real.

But now his problem was how was he going to convince Yuuri that they are in fact in a time loop?

“R-right. A-anyway, good night, Viktor. Have a safe flight tomorrow.”

Yuuri left before Viktor could even speak a word.

Dismayed, Viktor sighed. He placed his hand on his forehead as he struggled to think of a solution.

How was he ever going to convince someone that what was once a myth is now reality?

Maybe Viktor was alone in this time loop after all.

**Night 5**

Yuuri just woke up from a wonderful dream.

Well, at least before the end of the dream at least.

Light filtered through the windows in Yuuri’s hotel room as Yuuri laid awake, waiting for his alarm to sound for the nth time. The room was fairly warm compared to the cold weather outside, toasty enough to tempt Yuuri into skipping the gala and banquet altogether, and just sleeping the day off.

With his recent blunder at the Grand Prix Final, no one could blame Yuuri for getting comfortable.

Yuuri squinted his eyes as he started to truly wake. Sitting up, he rubbed at his eyes groggily as he reached for his phone on the bedside table. It should only be a few hours before he has to rush to the arena and prepare for the gala.

‘Do they regret choosing me to perform? I mean I finished in last place…’ Yuuri thought as he looked in the mirror, perching his glasses back on his nose.

‘Wow, I look horrible.’ Yuuri let out a sad chuckle as he studied himself. He looked tired, pillow marks marred his cheeks, and his eyes were drooping with his eye bags.

It was just what he expected after silently crying his heart out once he returned to his hotel room after the medal awarding ceremony. Yuuri couldn’t believe that he had managed to keep it together all throughout the event. He had half expected himself to start getting teary the moment they announced the names. But then, Yuuri himself couldn’t imagine shedding sad tears while he watched the living legend himself receive his fifth consecutive Grand Prix Final gold medal.

There was no way Yuuri could be unhappy because of such a thing.

After all, what Yuuri wanted was to become his equal, and to skate on the same ice as him. While he admittedly failed at the former, at least he can rest easy on accomplishing the latter.

‘I guess this is where this ends.’ Yuuri sighed as he resigned himself to instead mentally prepare for his performance for the day.

‘Time for my last skate.’

* * *

Viktor was getting tired of waking up to the same thing everyday. He almost wanted to ignore Yakov’s calls from the other side of the door, and resign himself to a fitful sleep.

Yes, Viktor was disappointed that he wasn’t able to talk to Yuuri longer. He also mentally scolded himself for forgetting to ask for Yuuri’s room number and phone number.

‘Of all times to be forgetful…’

After going through his morning routine once again, Viktor found himself alone at the ice rink, waiting for the zambonis to finish their job, so he can get back on the ice, and prepare for his exhibition skate for the fifth time in a row. If the time loop continued for a month, Viktor could probably skate his program blindfolded by then.

Viktor was frustrated. He had no one to ask, and no information to turn to. All he had was himself, and a very abundant amount of time to figure things out. But there was still a part of him which hoped that this whole fiasco would suddenly end, finally freeing him from this insanity-inducing situation.

It seemed that he had no other choice than to wait for this whole debacle to end on its own.

After some moments of waiting, Viktor finally set foot on the ice. He began to go through the motions of his program once again.

As he skated, he imagined the music playing, and visualized the story he wanted to tell. While the song was not as sorrowful as Stammi Vicino, there was an air of wistfulness to it. It was a song where the main character of the story was at a loss, and he eventually resigned himself to accept his fate, grasping at what he once thought was happiness.

Viktor was so into his program that he failed to notice a certain skater enter the rink, a gasp sounding his arrival.

Viktor skidded to a stop and looked over to the entrance of the rink. There stood Katsuki Yuuri, hand clutching the strap of his sports bag tightly, mouth agape and cheeks flushed.

Viktor was very surprised to see Yuuri arrive so early for practice.

Before Viktor could approach him, Yuuri turned his back and brisk walked into the locker room.

Viktor sighed in defeat.

Maybe it’s time he gave up on pushing Yuuri for a talk.

* * *

Yuuri leant against the locker room door with a hand clutched against his chest. He felt his heart beat miles per second.

‘Why do I feel like I should talk to Viktor?’ Yuuri thought to himself. ‘…It was all just a dream, right?’

For the remainder of the gala, Yuuri avoided Viktor like the plague.

However, there was almost one time he had crossed paths with him. When Yuuri was waiting for the three medalists’ performance, he caught Viktor staring at him, eyeing him intensely as he waited for his turn on the ice. Once more, Yuuri immediately turned his back and moved to Celestino’s side to avoid his gaze completely.

While he was very successful at his aversion, that desire to talk to Viktor grew each passing second. Yuuri knew that by the end of the day, his gut will finally make him do what he has wanted to the moment he woke up.

* * *

Without much coaxing and persuasion from Celestino, Yuuri bluntly agreed to attend the banquet instead of cooping up in his room. When he entered the banquet hall, Yuuri’s eyes instinctively looked for a head of silver hair. At the very center of the room was where his eyes found him. Viktor was surrounded by a group of sponsors with Viktor sporting a slightly bored face as he listened to his sponsors drone out on some new deals with some sportswear company.

Yuuri felt his chest twist in itself.

‘If I’m retiring after this, this may be last chance to talk to Viktor…but should I even take that chance?’ Yuuri clenched his fists as he watched Viktor entertain the sponsors flawlessly. He watched the way Viktor smiled, laughed and joked with his sponsors. It seemed as if he was happily preoccupied.

Too busy to concern himself with someone like Yuuri.

Impulsively, Yuuri grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, determined to drink away his nerves. Before he could bring up the glass to his lips, a voice stopped him.

“Going to drown yourself in alcohol after that shitty skate? Tch. Typical.” Yuri Plisetsky sneered as he passed him by.

As much as Yuuri hated to admit it, maybe he _was_ running away. He could not lie to himself that he wasn’t intent on hiding in embarrassment after all of it. However, some part of Yuuri wanted to get past it. He wanted to move on from his Grand Prix Final blunder.

Vicchan would’ve wanted to see him happy.

With one last look at the glass of champagne, Yuuri placed the glass of champagne back on the waiter’s tray, apologizing whilst doing so before walking towards where Viktor who stood, right at the corner of banquet hall..

“H-hello, Viktor.” Yuuri greeted.

Viktor broke out of his stupor, his eyes widened as he took sight of Yuuri.

“It’s nice to finally meet you. I’m---“

“Yuuri.” Viktor smiled softly at him. Yuuri felt his heart ache after seeing him smile.

“A-ah yes…” Yuuri answered awkwardly.

“It’s nice to finally meet you.” Viktor continued.

Yuuri was starting to feel that familiar sense of déjà vu as Viktor spoke.

“Viktor, um…” Yuuri was starting to forget what he was supposed to say. In a last resort, Yuuri turned to what he could confidently talk about. “Your skate! It was….breathtaking.”

“So I’ve been told.” Viktor smile now had a tinge of sadness to it. His eyes seemed more somber than usual.

“Viktor, I’ve always---“

“Viktor! What are you doing over there? The drinks are right here, mon cheri.” Chris called out.

“On my way, Chris! Save some for me.” Viktor answered back.

Yuuri felt disappointed at how his time with Viktor was cut short. He wished he could have more, to get to know him and more importantly to let him know how much of an effect he had on his life and his skating. 

Viktor looked at him with sad eyes and a sad smile before placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Yuuri, it wasn’t just a dream.” Viktor said.

The hand on Yuuri’s shoulder tightened.

“Believe me.”

And with that, Yuuri was left alone not knowing how to respond or even what to do.

**Night 6**

Yuuri felt a chill run down his spine as he stared at his phone screen.

The date read ‘December 9, 2016.’

Yuuri could swear on his skating that the gala and the banquet were already over. He had skated his last yesterday and left with his final applause as skater. It was supposed to be the day he flies back to Detroit. It was supposed to be the day he finally let go of everything. It was the day he would finally let himself give up on his dreams.

However, the date on his phone, and Celestino waking him up was an indicator that it was still his last day in Sochi.

Now, Yuuri wasn’t so sure that all his dreams prior were only just dreams.

“Yuuri, is there something wrong?” Celestino stood by his bed, looking on him in worry.

“N-nothing!” Yuuri almost dropped his phone as Celestino broke him out of his thoughts.

“Are you sure? I can always tell the organizers that you’re calling in sick—“

“No, no, there’s no need for that. I’m just…not that awake yet, I guess.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.” Yuuri smiled reassuringly at his coach. Yuuri would always be thankful for Celestino’s concern. While he can sometimes be overbearing, Celestino knew Yuuri well enough to know when Yuuri needed some time off.

“Well, let’s get ready to end this GPF with a beautiful skate.” Celestino patted him on the back before leaving him to prepare for the day.

* * *

The rest of Yuuri’s day went on like what he expected: the exact same thing as his ‘dream.’

Yuuri felt his unease steadily grow as the alarms in his mind blared with the sounds of ‘I’ve done this before.’

Everything was exactly the same.

Almost sleeping in such that Celestino had to wake him.

Bumping into Cao Bin during practice.

The cheers he received after skating his exhibition skate.

The poodle plushie that fell into his arms.

Hell, even that lewd joke Chris told him was the same.

Yuuri’s mind ached from it all.

‘How did things turn out like this?’ Yuuri tried to make sense of it but his head hurt even more just from experiencing all these events, sensations and feelings all over again.

_“Yuuri, it wasn’t just a dream.” Viktor said._

_The hand on Yuuri’s shoulder tightened._

_“Believe me.”_

A sharp chill ran down his spine as he remembered Viktor’s words.

‘It can’t be…It is impossible, right?’

Yuuri found himself looking in the mirror. He surveyed his face, finding nothing to be different. He moved his body and extended his muscles, and yet nothing felt different. There was no physical evidence of the day’s events already happening prior.

Still, Yuuri wasn’t convinced.

Everything that Yuuri had experienced, and had experienced _again_ , told him that it was true. It can only be true that this was his reality now. That his reality included his past ‘dreams’ although he could hardly remember it all. That this déjà vu was not merely a feeling but the effect of having gone through this cycle several times in a row.

Katsuki Yuuri was stuck in a time loop with Viktor Nikiforov (probably).

Yuuri looked at the time and noticed it was only a few hours before the banquet starts.

With a deep breath, a reeling mind, and a racing heart, Yuuri steeled himself for what he has to do.

‘No more beating around the bush.’ Yuuri was determined to see things through.

* * *

“Viktor, I believe you.”

Yuuri spoke to him with much sincerity.

They stood outside the banquet hall, Yuuri having pulled him aside before he could even set foot on the carpet. That definitely earned Yuuri a fierce glare from _both_ Yakov and Yuri. Viktor waved them off as he allowed himself to be led to the corridor near the doors, eager to find out what Yuuri had to say.

With Yuuri’s words, Viktor was elated.

‘Things are finally looking up.’ Viktor thought as he smiled down at Yuuri.

“I’m sorry for the other night. I…” Yuuri’s face was a pretty shade of red.

“It’s alright, Yuuri. Even I would do the same.” Viktor was relieved that he got through to Yuuri. Who knows what he would do if he hadn’t. 

“But still.” Viktor swore that Yuuri’s brown eyes could melt him with how warm they are. “I’m really sorry.”

“Well, we have all the time to make it up for each other, yes?” Viktor casually threw his arm around Yuuri’s shoulders.

“Yeah.” Yuuri smiled.

“We _are_ stuck in a loop, aren’t we? We have all the time in the world.” Viktor smiled back. “Or it could just be that we’ve both lost it. Either way, might as well make the most of our situation while we find a way out of this.”

“Yeah, we’ll figure it out together.”

**Night 7**

Yuuri never expected himself to google something along the lines of ‘What to do if you’re stuck in a time loop.’ It’s no surprise that even Google has no answer to their predicament especially when they always placed the words ‘this is all fictional’.

Yuuri also never expected to hang out in Viktor’s room for the night.

In fact, Yuuri never dreamed of using the words ‘hang out’ and ‘Viktor’ in one sentence.

He peeked over his shoulder to look at his companion who was also searching up the same things on his laptop, blue eyes shining under the light from the monitor.

It was honestly jarring sitting on Viktor’s bed with Viktor who was casually munching on room service food as they searched the web for some sort of answer to their little problem, and watching him skate on television and smile that billion dollar smile as he bowed to this audience after a successful skate.

Yuuri couldn’t control the smile that formed on his face.

‘Who knew that Viktor Nikiforov could be so cute?’

“Hm? Did you find something Yuuri?” Yuuri could see a smudge of sauce on the side of his lip. Yuuri was half tempted to reach out and wipe it away with his thumb.

“Nothing.” All Yuuri found was the feeling of warmth planted in his chest steadily growing into something he had never known before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are very much appreciated!

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and Comments are very much appreciated!


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